My Hunger Games: Mockingjay Alternate Ending
by Hawthorne's Quickshot
Summary: To start with, I felt his death was unnecessary so Finnick doesn't die in the underground tunnels at the hands of the lizard-mutts. Everything following, I was satisfied with. Some things, I simply change the wording from the book, other parts are my own. It starts when they drop Plutarch off in Three. I do not own anything, these are all amazing creations of Suzanne Collins.
1. Chapter 27

"...Don't be a stranger."

I manage a half smile at him as he walks away after Gale nods and shakes his hand. After Plutarch disappears into the building, that's when something feels wrong, so terribly wrong. An icy pit where my stomach is supposed to be. I can't catch my breath. The others must notice as well; Gale reaches out and puts a protective hand on my arm. Haymitch begins ushering us to our hovercraft when we hear it. The soft whirring sound of a hovercraft. And it's not ours. "Everyone get to cover!" Gale yells as it clears the tree tops. It must be a Capitol straggler. This one is armed to the teeth.

The few people mingling around outside scream and scatter, running for the buildings. It begins strafing the ground and rooftops with gun fire, cutting some down, while we sprint to our hovercraft. To weapons. I know my Mockingjay bow is there and I also know I have one of Beetee's explosive arrows left! Gale propels me forward as fast as he can. Even after everything, he's still trying to protect me. I can hear Haymitch running, falling behind, then his voice cries out. "Look out!" Gale and I risk a look backwards at the same moment and see the Capitol ship looping around, heading straight for us. It's terrible guns cut through the air, tearing up the ground behind us, getting ever closer. We don't have a chance in the world to outrun it. I look up at Gale and see the realization, then the grim determination mixed with sadness on his face when he tackles me to the ground, enveloping me with his arms, tucking my head down, covering my whole body with his. I feel him jerk, hear him as he cries out, the hovercraft soaring past us and keeps going. I feel something warm on my body and know it's his blood. A strangled scream escapes my body as I crawl out from under him, cradling his head in my lap. Haymitch skids to his knees beside us, dirt kicking up onto Gale's shuddering chest.

My vision blurs as my eyes fill with tears when I meet Haymitch's grey ones, and he shakes his head. I know what his unspoken words mean. Gale is going to die.

Rebels come running out a nearby building, one of them wielding some sort of rocket launcher. He shoots and it homes in on the hovercraft, destroying it in a loud, dazzling explosion. The smoking pieces fall to the ground while I sit brushing Gale's dark locks off his forehead with a shaking hand. "It-It's b-better...this way," he gasps.

"Shhh..." I whisper, not understanding his words as he groans, my tears falling onto his face.

"It's my f-fault...she's...dead."

I gasp involuntarily, knowing exactly what he means. Prim. For only the second time in my life I see his own eyes fill while he makes a huge effort just to keep breathing. "...Besides...I know who you...c-can't survive without," Gale chokes out. His tears mix with mine, running into my hand and I remember him saying that. That night in Tigris' shop. He is wheezing now, and coughs, a tiny trail of blood runs down his chin. Haymitch grips Gale's hand tightly and places the other on my shoulder. He's almost gone. "I'm sorry."

An image flashes into my mind. Gale standing near me, a ghost of a smile on his face as I show off my first snare kill to him.

I firmly grasp Gale's other hand and sniff hard. "There is _nothing_ to be sorry about," I say in a tone that leaves no room for doubt. My gaze flicks down to his chest and I see his blue shirt is almost covered in dark patches, the pool beneath him ever spreading. "_I'm_ sorry. I had no right to blame you for Pr-...what happened to her. It wasn't your fault." My voice cracks at the end. Haymitch's hand tightens on my shoulder and I hear him sniffle. But I'm not done. "You've been my best friend for so long. The one who always understands. Always been there for me. I...I love you, Gale."

Another image. Gale was laughing. Really laughing as I'd glowered at him, covered in mud from tripping into a huge puddle twice the size of me. He was still laughing even after I'd tossed a wad of mud at his chest and his infectious laughter had made me join in.

My shoulders shake as I sob, unable to bear the fact that I am losing him forever. Gale's grey eyes intensely fix on mine, but his voice is growing weaker when he says, "I want you to make a good life now, Catnip." His name for me only worsens my pain. "Peeta still loves you... You just have to make him remember." His voice grows fainter. "I...love...you..." His eyes lose focus on me, gazing into the sky.

Our first kiss. In the alley. He had caught me by surprise, cupping my face in his hands. ..._I had to do that. At least once_... Then he was gone.

Like now. His strong chest was no longer rising and falling. "Gale?" I ask in vain, fresh tears running down my face. "Gale? Please, no. Come back. I need you! Gale!" I sob. My fingers tangle in his hair, run over his face while Haymitch closes his eyes and whispers, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry."


	2. Chapter 28

To VioletSunrise: Thank you for your kind words! I'm very glad you enjoyed it. :) 

* * *

I stare into the flames. Their gentle tongues rise through the air, slowly eating the wood that sustains them. The embers beneath seem alive, the way they flicker about, never stopping, never fading. I wrap the worn tan blanket closer around me, bringing it up to my nose. My eyes suddenly sting with unshed tears at it's smell. The woods. With just a hint of orange. Gale. I'd wrapped it around him the day after he was whipped. It's so soft, the only thing he could bear on the broken skin of his back. I let out a shaky sigh and drift off into a troubled slumber.

Some days I lose myself in the mansion, sleeping through the day, the faces of the dead visiting me, waking in a cold sweat, the nights crawling by watching the stars through a window. The phone rings nearly every day, but I never answer. I eat the meals Greasy Sae cooks for me, but whatever she makes seems to taste like sawdust for a long time.

Haymitch drowns himself in his sorrows, only emerging from his hazy world every so often to check on me. My answer is always the same. "I'm fine, Haymitch." He gives me a look that says he clearly doesn't believe me, but he lets it go and returns to his stupor.

I'm having another horrifying nightmare. My father is shoveling dirt into a grave. I'm running toward him when I hear the muffled screaming. I throw myself to the ground beside the hole and see Gale, locked in a glass coffin, half-buried and terrified. "What are you doing?!" I scream at my father. He looks at me and says, "He killed my little girl," and keeps shoveling until I can no longer hear Gale's cries. I can still hear metal scraping dirt when I wake up with a sob in my throat. Shaking off the fog of sleep, I fling myself to the window, letting the warm air buffer my face. No, I wasn't imagining it, I can still hear someone shoveling. I rush downstairs and am out the door, looking for the source of the sound, my heart pounding in my chest. Rounding the corner of the house, I stop dead at the sight of him. His face is bright red with exertion and there is five or so scraggly bushes in a wheelbarrow behind him.

"You're back."

"They wouldn't let me leave until yesterday. Oh and, Dr. Aurelius told you to answer you phone so he can stop pretending to treat you." The haunted look has left his eyes now, although he's thin and covered in scars, he looks almost back to normal. I make a half-hearted attempt to straighten my matted hair as he takes in my appearance. "What are you doing?" I ask, suddenly feeling defensive.

"I went for a walk in the woods and found these. Thought I'd plant them. For her."

I lean closer, looking at the plant again, with their roots covered in dirt clods and it's name comes to me. Evening primrose. The flower for which my sister was named. I touch a delicate bud and nod my assent to Peeta, my eyes stinging, then run into the house, lock the door and go into my room. The sickly sweet odor of the evil rose hits my nose and I see it on the floor beside my dresser, where it has lain for these past weeks. White, still holding it's perfect shape. I grab the filthy thing in my fist, run downstairs and fling it into the fire, watch the petals shrivel into nothing. Fire beats rose.

Back in my room, I can still smell it. I open wide all the window then quickly remove my clothes and step into the shower, scrubbing myself raw. Strips of dead skin peel off and travel down the drain. Tingling all over, I dry and pull something clean on, then sit for the task of combing my hair. That project takes a good half hour, during which I hear Greasy Sae unlock the door and go into the kitchen. While she makes breakfast, I toss my discarded clothes to the fire.

Over my plate of eggs, Greasy Sae suggests I go hunting. "It's the first day of spring. Might do you some good to get out of this stuffy house. Haven't had any fresh meat in while either."

"I'll go hunting later," I say. Now I find myself, bow in hand, in my father's old hunting jacket, heading for the Meadow. I enter the woods through my usual place, nothing to worry about with the fence. It's powerless once again. I cross the Meadow, growing back in patches of green, all by itself, and barely make it to Gale and I's old meeting place before I have to stop. Old habits die hard as they say. I sit on the rock where Cressida filmed us so very long ago and catch my breath. I seem very small and lost without him beside me. I slowly reach into my pocket and pull out the small gold locket that Peeta gave me. I couldn't bring myself to open it until now. I do so slowly, first studying my mother on the left side, then letting my gaze shift to Prim on the right, and finally settling on Gale in the middle. My chest feels heavy as I trace him with my finger tip, one tear trailing down my face. "I miss you both. So much..." A heat rushes through me, building up until I can no longer take it and I scream in agony, clenching the locket in my fist and covering my head with my arms. Pain for the dead, for who I was, for what I am now.

When I open my eyes, the sun is setting, casting the sky in orange. I lie still rapidly cooling rock, and look at the sky, the subtle shifting of the sun makes the orange deeper and lighter. The color reminds me of Peeta. I start when I hear someone murmuring behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I see him sitting with his back to me and I hear a very familiar helpless kitten meow. "Peeta?" I ask, sitting up. I can hardly believe what I see when he turns to me. Buttercup nestled in his arms. "Where did...? How did...?" I can't seem to get a sentence out but he understands.

"I went looking for you when you didn't come back," he says, looking a bit sheepish. "I found him sitting next to you. Pulled this out of his paw," he shows me an inch long thorn. Tossing it away, hesitates then holds out a piece of paper he picked up off the ground to me.

I gasp and tears fill my eyes. "Haymitch told me...what happened," Peeta says softly. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry." He's painted a beautiful picture of Gale. He's standing in the woods, the sun shining down on him through the deep green trees. He's gazing into the distance, just a hint of a smile on his face. He looks so...peaceful. "Peeta, I..." I whisper, not knowing what to say, how to thank him. Peeta just smiles and pets Buttercup, understanding as always.

In the morning, Peeta comes with Greasy Sae, presenting a freshly baked bread and we all have breakfast together. I feed all my bacon to Buttercup when he stares at me pitifully.

I still have a lot of bad days, but I begin to feel myself coming back to life. I follow Dr. Aurelius' advice as best I can, going through the motions, pleasantly surprised when one finally has meaning again. One time I hesitantly tell him about my idea for a book, and a huge shipment of paper arrives from the Capitol the next day.

I came up with the idea from my family's plant book. We meticulously record that which we fear to forget. We start with a person's photo or Peeta sketches them if we don't have one. Then in my best handwriting, I carefully record all the details. Lady licking Prim's cheek. My father singing while the mockingjays watch overhead. Peeta's father with the cookies. Madge with my pin. Cinna making my Mockingjay dress. Mags making fishhooks. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue poised on her toes like a bird about to take flight. I add the painting of Gale. The entries go on and on. We seal the pages with saltwater and promises to live well to make their deaths count. Haymitch joins us sometimes, painstakingly contributing twenty-three years of friends and tributes he was forced to mentor. Additions become smaller as old memories resurface. A dried primrose lives between pages. Little bits of happiness, like the photo of Finnick and Annie with their newborn son.

We learn how to occupy ourselves, me with hunting, Peeta with baking, Haymitch with drinking. When it runs out, he remembers about the geese he's raising, but they take pretty good care of themselves. We're not alone for long. A few hundred people return, because although it's been destroyed, this is our home. We rebuild it together. Planting food after plowing the ashes back into the earth. They send great machines from the Capitol so we can build a new factory.

Peeta and I find each other again. There are times I wake screaming. Times where Peeta must force himself to hang on so false memories won't take over, but we are there to comfort each other. With our arms...our lips. On the night I feel the hunger that overtook me on the beach again, I knew this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive wasn't Gale's fire, I have enough for myself. No, I need the dandelion that promises life can go on, no matter our losses. That the world can be good again. Only Peeta can give me that. I think back to the day I lost Gale and know he knew it then. He said he knew who I couldn't survive without. I realize the final gift he gave me. Letting me know it's okay to be happy. _"...Make a good life for yourself..." With Peeta._

He asks me what's wrong when he sees my eyes fill with tears. When I tell him what I realized, he holds me close, a sad little smile on his lips. "I know."

So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real."


	3. Epilogue

I run my hand over the soft fabric of the blanket. We are in the Meadow watching the girl, Prim, her blond hair hair waving in the wind as she runs, her blue eyes dancing. The smaller boy with his dark hair and grey eyes tries hard to keep up on his little toddler legs. Gale. Peeta wanted them so badly, he patiently waited first five, then ten, finally fifteen years before convincing me. When I first felt her stirring inside me, I was almost consumed by fear. But as always, Peeta was right there to talk me through it. He'd suggested their names.

Now she gave a little cry as she slipped, opening a cut on her knee and we watched him run to her, wrapping her in his arms, before Peeta went to them. She knows we are in history books, he will learn in a few more years. They ask questions I don't know how to answer without frightening them. My children who take the words of this song for granted:

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open, the sun will rise._

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you._

My children who don't know they play on a graveyard.

Peeta says it will be okay, we have each other. And the book. But one day I'll have to explain my nightmares, why they come. Why they never really go away. Finnick and Annie felt the same with their little one, he understood.

I'll tell them how I survive it. I'll tell them on bad mornings, when I sit in front of the fireplace, staring at the open locket that now lives on the mantle, it feels impossible to feel pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away.

That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've ever seen anyone do. It's like a game. Repetitive, even tedious after more than twenty years. But I know there are far worse games to play.

Sometimes after I recover from a terrible episode, I walk out into the woods. I find myself retracing my old hunting grounds. I think I hear Gale calling my name and turn, waiting for him to appear so silently like he always did. And once in a while, I see him. He smiles at me then fades into the mist and where he stood, a dandelion lives. That's the reminder I need. That no one can take my happiness away now. "Until the next time, Gale." I whisper to the air. _Until the next time._


End file.
